


Tudes et Noctua

by minnie313



Category: Belgariad/Malloreon Series - David & Leigh Eddings
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-03-27 02:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13871481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnie313/pseuds/minnie313
Summary: A collection of OS about Durnik and Polgara





	1. Chapter 1

Polgara knew her husband had never thought himself a handsome man. And to most, he would be right. None of his features seemed particularly striking, for all his strength, and the goodness of his soul. And yet, she had always found him… what was the word? Attractive? Certainly, but that was not it. Intriguing? Quite, but again, not quite what she meant. Fascinating? Striking? All good adjectives, that would describe him well, after a fashion, but could not embody the entirety of the pull she had felt towards him, even back when they had met. Feelings that had inexorably drawn her to him – drawn her to look for his smile, his support, his approval – but that she had refused to acknowledge, even in the solitude of her own mind.

It was the eyes, she hypothesized, one day that she was watching her husband sleep. It was his eyes that she had noticed first about him. His eyes that had first drawn her to him. 

They were a soft brown colour, something not quite like mud brown, not at all as warm as chestnut brown. Some deep brown, between dark leather and almost burning caramel. Yet, if every aspect of her husband could easily leave her waxing in poetics, she could very well understand that, to others, his physical aspect, at least, was not quite so fascinating. His eyes would normally be no more remarkable than the rest of his body.

To be fair, it was not their colour that had touched her so deeply, it was the way they shone, alight with some inner radiance. It was the way they had radiated warmth, kindness, gentleness, acceptance, even back when they had been strangers. It was the way his gentility shone through. It was his calmness, an unbending beacon of strength in the freezing winter storms, that would give you support whether he knew you or not.

Polgara was not foolish or vain enough to believe that this side of her husband was hers alone. His gentleness was such an inherent part of him, that it could not be so. No. It was not for her. His eyes were simply the mirror of his kind heart. Her husband was a philanthropist, to whom human life was sacred. He could no sooner turn away someone in need than he had been able to make her leave the farm when she needed shelter. She had seen this side of him in action often enough during their quests.

She loved his eyes the most, she thought, stroking his hair as he stirred, when he was looking right into hers. She loved the way they seemed to smile just for her, conveying just how important she was to him. Lazily, she stroked his cheek, then kissed him. It was light, still, his eyelids fluttered open. His eyes seemed to drink in the sight of her, and he smiled. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and she could not help smiling herself. Cradling his face in her hands, she whispered “Good morning, my love”.


	2. Tandem venit amor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After it all, she cannot seem to let go of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I’m in rare pair Hell… why not continue being in it, right? Right. Nothing else to do but write it all, and hope the plot bunnies start to let me breathe a little, and write something for my (many) other pairings…

>   
> tandem venit amor, qualem texisse pudori  
> quam nudasse alicui sit mihi fama magis.  
> exorata meis illum Cytherea Camenis  
> attulit in nostrum deposuitque sinum.  
> exsoluit promissa Venus : mea gaudia narret,  
> dicetur si quis non habuisse sua.  
> non ego signatis quicquam mandare tabellis,  
> ne legat id nemo quam meus ante, velim,  
> sed peccasse iuvat, vultus comonere famae  
> taedet cum digno digna fuisse ferar.(a)  
> 

Everything was silent in Cthol Mishrak, as if everyone, from man to beast, god to insect, was holding their collective breaths. Waiting to see whether he who had died was to live again. The woman he had loved, and indeed, given his life to, that very woman was tenderly brushing his hair out of his face. Trying to infuse in Durnik’s body all her love before he be taken from her to his final resting place.

But it is said that even the gods, creatures of such might, so far away from the concerns of the mortals, may take pity on us. And so did Aldur, master of all sorcerers. He who had observed this beloved child from her infancy, and watched over her as much as the restrictions let him. And when he asked her whether she would be willing to let go of her powers – the very core of her life – to live a normal man with this man, Polgara said yes. 

She had no care for what may be, knowing that, were this man that she adored to leave this earth forever, she would never recover. Durnik was that special. And when, after Garion had acted to revive him, Durnik had gasped, coughed, and finally opened his eyes, she had gasped in shock. Her eyes awash with new tears, a hand against her mouth to muffle any scream.

‘P-Polgara?’ he whispered confused ‘what – what happened?’ The woman was far too emotional right now, so one of the others answered, probably Silk.

‘Well, you died, Durnik, but, hey, welcome back!’

‘I d- what?! Is this heaven? Am I dead?’

‘No, it’s not’ croaked Polgara, and she hated how small and vulnerable her voice sounded. ‘You were dead, but… our Master asked that you be brought back.’

He sat up on the ground, right next to her. During all of this, Polgara had not stopped touching him. He had awakened with one of her hands in his hair, the other on his hand. He felt as if her touch branded him, and he wanted more. He wanted to be hers. He could recognise that, even in his confused state. He turned fully towards her, and curled his hand around hers, while his left hand touched her face so gently, that she very nearly cried again.

‘You’ve been crying, Polgara’

‘You were… you were dead, and I-I couldn’t… ‘ she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself slightly before replying, but suddenly realizing they were under quite the scrutiny from everyone else around, she blushed, tongue-tied, and bit her lip. A clear sign of her nervousness.

‘I take it I am alive again?’ he whispered, and she nodded. Gods, she hated to appear vulnerable in front of the others, but he… he was back, and she couldn’t quite believe it yet. She didn’t dare believe that he was here to stay. What if he disappeared again? One of her hands slowly found its way to his face, softly caressing his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his lips. He kissed it, then. Held her fingers in his, held her gaze for the longest time, as if he could see, and feel, her every thought. He’d always read her well, after all. 

‘C’me here’ he whispered, and he took her into his arms, his chin right on top of her lovely hair, as her hands fisted in the fabric of his tunic, her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling that scent that was his, and his alone. The explanations would come later, anyway. It was clear to him that everyone was overwrought and exhausted. Yes, a single glance towards Belgarath confirmed it. The man would explain everything to him. As it was, he was loath to let her out of his arms. Errand smiled at him, as if he wanted to cuddle up to them, but did not quite want to disturb them.

***

Later that night, as they were finally in the camp , she was still touching him (c). He was no longer holding her against him, had felt that it would not be proper to do so. He had offered her his arms, however, and she had a tendency to press against his shoulder in a way that he felt was entirely too pleasant. She did not want to let go of him. He was sure of it. She had not stopped touching him since he had awakened in Cthol Mishrak to find her face streaked with dried tears – that he felt unworthy of. 

They arrived in front of her tent, and she began to worry her lip again. It was obvious to him that she should not be left alone tonight. That she would not want to be alone tonight. And from the way she gripped his clothes, he surmised that she wanted to stay with him. A cold sweat made its way down his neck. He did not want to ruin her reputation, such as it was, but he was also loath to do anything that could make her uncomfortable. Maybe if he stayed with her a while more, she would calm down and relax enough to sleep? 

She took a deep breath, and tried to find the strength to let him go. She was strong, she could do this. She was not one of those foolish girls who could not live without their man! She was Polgara, for goodness’ sake!! 

‘Polgara, do you need anything?’ he asked quietly. He did not say “are you alright” for that would be a foolish question. The woman was obviously not alright.

‘I’ll be alright, I expect, thank you, Durnik’ she whispered with a watery smile, that felt like a punch in the gut. Of course, she was telling him to leave her alone. He had intruded on her for a long enough time, now. He composed himself and started to say goodnight. 

But she did not seem to hear him anymore. She looked dejectedly at the tent, loath to have to spend one more night without his arms around her, loath to be granted her wish because he felt obliged to or pitied her.

He turned towards her tent, and barely hesitated before taking her hand, and getting her inside with him. ‘I’ll be back in a few moments. I’ll leave you to your preparations for the night.’

‘You- you’re staying?’ she whispered, astonished. He smiled tenderly at her.

‘Well, I’m not leaving you if you don’t want me to. And I get the feeling that you need me around, tonight’ he answered in an uncharacteristic bout of boldness. 

‘But, and you? What about you, Durnik? Don’t you want to be left alone? Don’t you feel that I’ve monopolised you enough for tonight?’ “Am I not bothering you?” was left unsaid, but it was clear to him from her awkward demeanour. 

‘Polgara, I’ve apparently just come back from the dead. The last thing I want, is to be left alone.’

‘Besides’ he added, kissing her fingertips ‘you should know by now, that you can never bother me.’ 

He departed then, leaving her to her nocturnal preparations, as propriety dictated. People might call him a prude for it, but he was not going to act like a cad by watching her disrobe in front of him. She was far too precious to him. And maybe, tomorrow, after he’d hounded down Belgarath for some explanations, he’d tell her. In the meantime, he was not about to look this particular gift horse in the mouth, nor to let her deal with horrible memories all by herself. If she wanted him near, he would be near. In whatever capacity she needed. He was hers, after all, for as long as she wished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (a)Personal translation:  
> At last, Love is here ! Such a love that to hide it  
> would give way to more shame than to reveal it openly.  
> Won over by my songs, Venus of Cythera  
> brought him to my arms.  
> Venus fulfilled her promises: let him recount  
> my pleasures, he who hasn’t got any.  
> I have no wish to entrust anything to sealed letters,  
> so that none may read them before my man.  
> It pleases me to have fallen; I am loath to compose myself  
> for fear of my reputation. Let it be said that, worthy of him,  
> I am with a man worthy of me.
> 
> (b)I couldn’t resist. Honestly xD. I was browsing Tibullus’ elegies (us Latin teacher do stuff like that from time to time), and I found Sulpicia’s elegies in the Appendix Tibulliana… Now, I knew of Sulpicia’s existence (only female Roman writer we have got something left, lived in 1st century AD, for more info, check the Wikipedia page :p), but I had never gotten around to reading her, never had the time, honestly. And then, I found this little marvel :D This is a personal translation (to be honest, I translated it in French, then adapted it in English), but if you want to read another, better translation, I suggest this one, it’s beautifully done, check for “Love proclaimed” :  
> https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/Tibullus.php#anchor_Toc532635331)
> 
> (c)I’m guessing that it would take a little more time than that, but… poetic license! :), also: MAGIC! xD


End file.
